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Novel Catalog
Chapter 92: Treat a Special Patient
Ryan didn’t take Wynter to the nearest hospital. Instead, he drove straight to the Caesar Hotel in the city center. The streets were packed with cars, and traffic jams seemed to stretch endlessly.
Ryan craned his neck, looking around nervously, his anxiety growing as time slipped away.
Wynter, sitting in the back seat, remained calm and composed. “Ryan, calm down. Tell me the patient’s symptoms.”
“I—I’m not sure what the illness is,” Ryan replied, his voice strained. “She suddenly fainted. I didn’t even see her when it happened.”
He glanced at the driver, lowering his voice as if sharing something sensitive. “The patient’s been weak for a while. She has a history of anemia. Although she’s adopted, Mr. Quinnell Senior treats her like his own granddaughter. She looks similar to the real Ms. Quinnell. Just… when you go in later, please be mindful of that.”
Wynter raised an eyebrow at the mention of Ms. Quinnell. “Ms. Quinnell’s been missing since she was a child. How could the Quinnells see the similarity?”
Ryan sighed deeply. “She has childhood photos. The adopted daughter was found through human trafficking, and I tracked her down. When Mr. Quinnell Senior saw her, he was struck by how much she resembled Ms. Quinnell. He was devastated when they tested their DNA and found they weren’t related after all.”
Wynter nodded thoughtfully. “I see.”
She wasn’t overly concerned with the Quinnells’ family matters. What intrigued her was the sudden fainting spell—something didn’t add up. There were usually warning signs before someone passed out. This seemed strange. But, she would figure it out when she examined the patient.
Meanwhile, inside the Caesar Hotel’s Frenda restaurant, a woman entered, holding a Chanel bag. She didn’t sit immediately but instead stepped aside to let a young girl walk in after her.
The girl was dressed in a custom white dress, her skin pale and flawless from never being exposed to sunlight. Around her neck hung a Dior limited-edition rhinestone necklace, catching the light and sparkling like stars. She was the picture of elegance and wealth, looking like a princess from a fairytale.
As she entered, all eyes in the room turned to her. Even in Southdale, a city known for its wealth and status, there was no one quite like her—luxurious and graceful in every way.
She greeted the chef, Pierre, who made a polite gesture of kissing her hand without actually touching it. “Ms. Quinnell, it’s an honor to serve you.”
“Ms. Quinnell?”
“Which Ms. Quinnell?” someone whispered.
“The one from Kingbourne—the richest family in the city. The Caesar Hotel is owned by the Yarwoods, so the chef wouldn’t personally greet anyone unless they were someone important. This must be her.”
The ladies, who had been enjoying their afternoon tea, exchanged astonished glances, their voices lowering in awe.
That girl—Ms. Quinnell—had everything they could only dream of: diamonds, designer bags, and, most enviably, the air of someone cherished by those around her.
Wanda, sitting among the group, overheard their hushed conversation and asked, “Didn’t the Quinnells have only sons for generations?”
Since the incident with the Gibsons, Wanda had found herself on the outskirts of social circles. Few people had been eager to invite her out for drinks, and the avoidance was growing more apparent.
But today, she had offered to treat everyone to a meal, so the group had reluctantly accepted her invitation.
Ms. Snyder, a woman involved in the jewelry business, ignored Wanda’s question, not eager to discuss her. But after a moment of hesitation, she spoke lazily. “The Quinnells did have a granddaughter, but she went missing when she was just a child. This girl, the one you’re talking about, is an adopted granddaughter. They’ve spoiled her terribly since they found her. Be careful what you ask about in the future. You don’t want to offend them.”
